Safe Without You (3 page)

Chapter 2

Amber and Cal wriggled back into their clothes with expressions worthy of the Cheshire Cat.  Cal kept looking at Amber out of the corner of his eye.  She was beautiful, but in an unpretentious and very natural way.  She wore no make-up from what he could tell, but somehow she had these thick, luscious eyelashes, and deep colored lips.  She had a golden tan, and her straight brown hair had highlights in it from being out in the sun.  Her eyes were a green that seemed almost transparent, and her nose was aquiline, her cheekbones arched.  Together with her shapely breasts and hips, and sculpted limbs, he thought she could have been the model for a Roman goddess. 

              He turned the key and the jeep sprang to life. 

              “We better get a move on, if we want to make it up to Boquete in time for dinner.”  Amber mentioned nonchalantly.

              “I don’t know about you, but I feel like I’ve already had dessert.”  Cal gave her a sly look.

              “Let’s not make a big deal about this,” Amber said, as she fastened her seat belt.  “You want some water?”  She passed a big plastic bottle over to Cal.

              He took a swig, then handed it back and put the jeep in gear, “Yeah, I guess now you’re finally telling me what to do.”  He smirked at her.

              The rest of the drive was beautiful but uneventful, Amber directed them to drive through Boquete, and the further they went once they left the other side of the town, the worse the road got.  Eventually they pulled up to an encampment with small wooden cottages. 

              “So what did you leave up here anyway?”  Cal asked as they got out.

              “My backpack and sleeping bag, all my camping gear, stuff I’m going to need.”

              Cal followed Amber to one of the cottages; she pushed the door open.  There were two twin beds, and on one was a sleeping bag.  A backpack rested against the foot of the bed.  Amber scanned the room, then started rummaging through the backpack, taking out items: a small backpackers stove with fuel bottle, a knife, cooking pots, some clothes, hiking boots and socks.

              “Damn it.”  Amber pushed the bag away from her.  “Those assholes.” 

              “I take it something is missing?”

              “All my water purification tabs, my GPS, and my headlamp.”  Amber sighed.  “At least I took my journal, my good sunglasses and my camera with me, but you know, I thought I was going to be back in twenty-four hours.”  She sat back on her heels.  I’m starving.  Let’s go find something to eat in town.”

              “Pick some place nice, my treat.” 

              Amber looked at Cal almost suspiciously, “Just because we got it on doesn’t mean that you owe me some kind of date.”

              “Wow.  You are cynical.  Forgive me for trying to do something nice.”

              Amber felt bad.  Cal was right, he hadn’t done anything to deserve her acting like a jerk.  “I’m…sorry.  I guess I’m pissed off about my stuff getting stolen.”

              Cal put a friendly arm around Amber’s shoulders, “Come on, let’s blow this pop stand.”

                “Yeah, sure.”

              A short time later they were digging into rice and fried plantains.  “So what’s next for you?” Cal asked.

              “There you go with the questions,” but this time Amber smiled.  “I’m thinking about heading south.”

              “You mean south as in southern Panama, or south like in South America?”

              “Maybe both.  I want to go to Darien National Park.”

              “Down on the Colombian border?”  Cal knotted his brow a little.

              “Yeah, the bridge between the north and the south.  What’s not to love about a place with giant anteaters and spider monkeys and the world’s largest rodent, the capybara?  It’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and I want to go see why.”  She took a big bite of plantains.

              “You know FARC is down there right?  That they’re coming across the border from Colombia?”  Cal’s voice had gotten serious.

              “FARC?  What’s a FARC?”

              “The Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia—they’re classified as a terrorist organization by the US and a lot of other countries.”

              “People blow all that stuff up out of proportion.  I don’t think there are guys with machine guns running through the Darien National Park.”

              “They’re not a joke Amber.  There are thousands of them, and they fuel their activities by kidnapping people and selling drugs.  They force teenagers to join against their will, and they’ve killed and hurt a lot of people.”

              Amber put her fork down, “Well you seem to know an awful lot about it.  Why’s that?”

              Cal rubbed his jaw, “I just pay attention to the news and stuff.”

              “To the news and stuff?  God, the media sensationalizes everything!  You can’t believe the news.”  She shook her head dismissively.  “I want to see some giant anteaters, and peccaries and agoutis, and I plan to go backpacking in Darien.”

              Cal dropped the subject.  “So are we going to try to drive back to the beach tonight, or what?”

              Amber rested her chin in her hand.  “I don’t know, I guess I hadn’t really thought it out.  What do you want to do?  I know I just don’t want to go back to the camp.  Something about that place was giving me the creeps.”

              “Yeah, let’s get out of here.  Did you check out of Casita del Mer?”

              “Yeah, I—I need to conserve funds.”

              “If you promise not to yell at me for offering, you’re welcome to crash with me at my place.  It’s nothing fancy, just a one-roomed bungalow on the beach.  No air-conditioning, but you get the breeze off the water, so you don’t really need it.”

              Amber rolled Cal’s proposition over in her mind, their ‘afternoon delight’ had been intriguing, and she couldn’t find any reason to say no, “Okay, thanks, if it’s no trouble.”

              “No trouble,” Cal said.

###

              It was late when Cal pulled up to his place, and Amber was dozing.  He gently roused her.  “Hey, we’re here.”             

              Amber stirred and stretched, “Oh, man I’m sorry, I’ve been a terrible shotgun.”

              “It’s okay, you must have been tired.” 

              Cal helped Amber gather her stuff, and then he unlocked the door.  As promised, it was a simple place—one double bed, not a queen or king, a dumpy dresser, a beat nightstand and a sitting chair.  It did, however, look immaculately clean and that put Amber at ease.  The sheets might be a little thin, but they had been bleached and starched to death.  She dumped her stuff in one corner and plopped down on the bed, pulling off her sandals.

              “Do you mind if I just go straight to bed?” Amber yawned, “I think this whole employment collapse situation has taken more out of me than I thought.”

              “Whatever you want, I might sit up and read a little, have a beer, if that’s okay.”

              “The light won’t bother me, the way I feel, I could sleep through a hurricane right now.”

She unfastened her bra and pulled it off from under her t-shirt, then shucked her shorts, crawling into bed with her t-shirt and panties on.  She doubled the skinny, flat, pillow over, and pulled up the sheet.  “Thanks for driving, Cal, and thanks for dinner, and thanks for an especially nice afternoon.”  She smiled sleepily.

              Cal walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, and smoothed her hair with his hand.  “You’re welcome.”  He kissed the top of her head, and then angled the table lamp away from her.  “Sleep tight.”

              In moments, Cal could tell by Amber’s soft breathing that she was asleep, and then he went to his bags.  He got out a large manila envelope, and began thumbing through its contents.  He pulled out a faded photo of three American men in fatigues chained together, and guarded by masked men holding guns.  He gazed at it for a very long time before sliding it back into the envelope, and pulling out a topographical map.  He spread out the map on the floor and studied it for a very long time.  After a while he got a pencil and made circle marks in various places.  He measured some distances and jotted a few notes before finally folding up the map.

              Amber woke to the sound of running water, and realized that it must be Cal in the shower.  She glanced at the small bedside clock, the hands of which said that it was 2:30.  It seemed like an odd time to be taking a shower, but maybe he couldn’t sleep.  She realized though, that she needed to pee.

              She padded into the tiny bathroom, calling to Cal to announce her presence.  As she flipped up the commode lid and sat down, he stuck his head out from the curtain.  “You okay?” he asked.

              “I was going to ask you the same.  I just need to pee, but why are you taking a shower at 2:30?”

              He looked at her puzzled, “It’s not 2:30.”

              “That’s what the clock said.”

              “It’s 12:30.  You’ve only been asleep for an hour.”

              Amber stood up and flushed, pulling up her panties.  “ I guess the clock is broken.” 

              “Probably.”  Cal reached out and caught her arm, “Why don’t you get in here with me?  It’s a good way to relax.”

              “You mean the hot water, or what you’re going to do?”  Amber pulled off her t-shirt and panties and stepped in.

              Cal stepped away from the spray of water so Amber could stand under it.  She closed her eyes and let the water cascade over her head.  She felt hands soaping her body and let her body go limp.  Cal’s hands skimmed over her, but his touch was more soothing than sexual.  He massaged her shoulders, and rubbed at the knots in her neck with his thumbs.  She rubbed her eyes, and then opened them as she pushed her breasts against Cal’s chest, letting him support her body weight.  His hands slipped down her back and began to knead the top of her butt. 

              “Mmmm.” Amber murmured, “It’s like my own private spa.  Are you always so friendly to strangers?”

              “No, not at all.  I told you, I haven’t been with anyone in a very long time.”

              “Define very long time,” she nuzzled her face against his chest.

              “More than two years,” his voice was suddenly emotionless.  “I—I’ve been dealing with some family trauma.” 

              Amber’s slipped her arms around Cal and touched a ridge of scar.  “Does it have anything to do with this?”  She felt him flinch at her question—or was it her touch?

              “Yeah, sort of, it’s complicated.  We don’t need to get into all that tonight.  Remember, we’re supposed to be trying to relax.”

              “Relax, yeah.”  She playfully grabbed a handful of his butt cheek.  “You’ve got a nice booty, did you know that?”

              Cal laughed and returned the favor, “Yeah, so do you.”  Cal rinsed them both off, then turned off the faucet.  Grabbing a fresh towel, he began drying Amber off.  “Amber,” he said, then hesitated, “I don’t want you to go to Darien.”

              “What did you have in mind instead?”  She took the towel from his hand and began drying her hair.

              “I don’t know.  I just have a bad feeling about Darien.”

              “So now your reasons have shifted from sensational media reports to ‘I’ve got a weird feeling?’  If you want me to stick around, you need to do better than that.  I need to get out in nature for a while and just get my head on straight.”

              Cal sighed.  He didn’t want to argue.  “Yeah okay, Amber, let’s get some shuteye and talk about plans tomorrow.”

              They slid under the sheet, and a fresh breeze fanned the bed.  Amber’s voice was sleepy again as she mumbled, “Yeah, who needs a stinking air conditioner?”

          But Cal folded his hands under his head, and stared at the ceiling fan going round and round in the dark.

Journal Reflection 3

I’ve always loved nature.  When my dad would get leave—what civilians call vacation—we’d almost always go camping.  My mom would want to do something cultural, go to museums or plays or the symphony.  That’s all fine, but what could be better than making a fire, and looking at the stars?  I love paddling a canoe, and hiking, and knowing the names of trees and animals.  The Colonel taught me most of what I know, but when I go some place new, I make it a point to take pictures and make notes about anything different and share it with him later. 

              When I was in seventh grade, we were at Kirtland.  That’s in Albuquerque, New Mexico.  That summer, my mom sprained her ankle, so it was just the Colonel and me.  Actually, he was a Major then, but you know what I mean.

              Anyway, I think Mom was relieved to stay at home with a stack of PBS Masterpiece Theater DVDs while Dad and I went up to the Pecos Wilderness.  That’s the southern tip of the Rocky Mountains, so it means you are hiking at altitude.  The trails are challenging, and we spent the first day climbing in and out of canyons, but it’s beautiful beyond belief.  Then Dad decided that we should try the Winsor Trail.  The first six miles starts in boggy meadows and aspen glades, but then it climbs up through the conifers where it hooks up with Skyline Trail, which certainly deserves its name.

              Even as a scrawny twelve-year old I carried a pack.  Dad took the heavier stuff, the tent and food and water, but I carried my own sleeping bag and clothes, my own flashlight and knife.  I liked that Dad pushed me and didn’t let me wimp out or whine, because there’s an amazing sense of accomplishment that comes from doing something that is
almost
too hard, but getting through it all the same.  It’s even better when you get to see a gorgeous glacial lake, and meadows of wildflowers, and a magnificent bighorn sheep.  And it’s absolutely perfect when it’s a girl with her father, a father that tells you that you can do
anything.